


a tender melody

by raseimon



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-06-02 13:48:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19442671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raseimon/pseuds/raseimon
Summary: Soft music plays through the halls. It's oddly soothing; usually, a disturbance to sleep would admittedly get Ayer cranky.He wonders who could produce a sound so gentle.





	a tender melody

Ayer is woken up by a lone concerto that reverberates through his room and the rest of the Grandcypher's left wing. There are many musicians in the crew, like Aoidos, whose loud rock and narcissism gave him migraines; Liliele, whose pop followed not long behind (somehow, he was immune to her charms); JJ, whose rap was nonsensical and sometimes, a strange primal from Mephorash whose voice sounded eerily like his own (and was a friend of Aoidos, so his headache would worsen just by association).

Usually, he'd pay no mind to them. In fact, such tremors would _annoy_ him, interrupting his naps in odd places and his inner peace. 

But this time, the sound is so gentle and kind, so warm and inviting, that even Ayer is soothed.

 _What kind of person would make such a gentle sound?_ He wonders. Are they playing for Raduga (maybe he should ask Jamil tomorrow), or practicing when they think no one is around, a hidden talent on the ship?

He doesn’t care to find out, for now, for the melody is a trance that lulls him to sleep. It's been harder to sleep lately; it feels like his grip with reality keeps slipping, that Bowman is on the verge of control. But listening to the strings played with such care enables a dreamless sleep— a relief, considering his vivid imagination, of flashbacks to the ring, of the figure inhabiting his mind.

He knows that he should feel gratitude towards many people— his sister, the captain, the kind crew who treats him with zealous regard. But it's not until this melody that his gratitude is sincere.

* * *

He discovers the culprit soon enough. Jamil has no idea who he's talking about, but Ladiva, ever the friendly presence, overhears their conversation and pipes in with pride. She always seems so proud of everyone in the ship, especially the children and teens, as if a mother with a plethora of children under her stead.

"Strings, you say? There's one person who immediately comes to mind for me! Elta, who plays the cello."

He doesn't recognize the name; there are too many damn people on this ship. They've definitely never crossed paths, but he stores the information in for another day, idly hoping he'll pass by them eventually. Can't tell his sister or the captain, of course; they'd try to meddle, and Jessica would gush about Ayer making friends.

It's not until a few weeks later that Ayer hears the melody again. This time, not in his room to help him sleep, but a performance on deck when Ayer heads to the cafeteria for lunch. A brunette wearing a patterned headband and a timid smile sits with a small crowd of older children, barely bigger than any of them in build.

It's unmistakable, that cello that starts in C major and enters something so beautiful, gradually getting louder and more passionate with each note played. Ayer observes from afar, surprised at how still the musician maintains that graceful soul despite this song being faster and more upbeat. When he finishes, the boy flushes at the praise and admiration from the children, modest and feeble unlike the liveliness he just produced.

So even the weak could have their moments, too.

“U...Um, can I help you?” the boy calls out when he notices Ayer staring from afar. He trembles slightly; Ayer tended to have that effect on people.

Ayer blinks profusely, embarrassed at being caught off guard.

“I heard you playing your cello from my room," he blurts lamely, to which the boy is taken aback. "A few weeks ago."

“A..Ah... I’m sorry?” The boy replies, fumbling with his fingers. “Hope it wasn’t a disturbance...”

“I remembered your sound so... it was nice,” Ayer shrugs, severely understating his thoughts. “I didn't mind hearing it.”

That was a compliment of the highest caliber for Ayer, but Elta doesn't seem flattered, just relieved. _Did he scare Elta or something? It's not like he'd go around beating random strangers up... was his reputation that bad on the Grandcypher?_

"I'm glad..." the boy lets out a deep breath, flustered from presumably thinking something bad was going to happen to him. "I think I remember practicing late at night that one time... I'm glad it didn't interrupt your sleep."

"It did," Ayer states bluntly. The brunette's breath hitches again, but Ayer continues. "But it helped me sleep better afterwards."

Ayer never claimed he was good with people. The boy relaxes a bit after that; he seems to now have picked up on the fact that Ayer is just socially awkward. "I'm so glad it did."

He sheepishly scratches the nape of his neck. “I usually practice with my friend Selfira, and sometimes we play for the rest of the crew, mostly the children, like today... Would you like to listen some time?"

The boy catches his gaze. Soft, doe-like eyes, opposite of Ayer's usual glare, but it's commendable that a deer can face the leopard in the first place. "Ah, sorry I didn’t get your name...”

“I’m Ayer,” Ayer offers, and uncharacteristically, he sticks out his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Ayer,” he smiles, that bashful smile from before. “I’m Elta.”

Elta accepts the gesture, his grip frail in comparison to Ayer. But his hands are calloused, much harder than Ayer's own palms— from years of practice and wear. He wonders how old Elta is, if he's been traveling as long as Ayer has with the Grandcypher and on his own, how long he's been playing the cello and into music. How admirable. 

Ayer wonders if he could ever measure up to Elta's musical ability in fighting prowess. If his spirit could emit something like Elta's, so distinctly his when Bowman's plagued his thoughts in the back of his mind for most of his life.

"I wouldn't mind coming around if you perform," Ayer says uncertainly, though he's greatly interested. He's never been one good at speaking true thoughts outloud.

"Please come again if you have the time," Elta lets go, and just like that, they're strangers once again. But his words and character are sincere, Ayer can tell. Being strong comes in many forms, not just physically, as Ayer's continued to learn. And he couldn't deny that he wanted to listen again, to the music that gave him some inner peace.

**Author's Note:**

> A friend got me super into this ship but this is just a very short gen/fluff piece interpreting how they could potentially meet. Not sure if anyone will click but hope you like and consider ayerelta if you do!
> 
> ( ~~Set before his FLB since I've had the idea for a while but never finished it....... I've been crying over Ayer getting his 5* for a few weeks now and wanted to celebrate my son.......~~ )


End file.
